Holiday Placebo
by Godell
Summary: For the batmanjoker Secret Santa Challenge on LJ. "The last thing Bruce expected to wake up to on Christmas morning was “Silver Bells” crooning over the harsh sounds of someone screaming only a short distance away." Nurse!Joker/Arkham!Patient!Batman


**Title:** A Holiday Placebo

**Author: **Godell

**Prompt: **Nurse!Joker/Arkham!Patient!Batman! Submissive Bruce and loving-but-teasing dominant Jack. A happy Christmas ending would be nice but fluff isn't necessary. You know how the boys are! :P

**Rating: **PG-13

**Disclaimer: **I don't own _The Dark Knight_, or "Silver Bells". I do own this plot, however.

**Warnings: **Crossdressing, straitjackets, a bit of Rachel-bashing (but then it's _Joker_), mild sexual situations.

**Author's Note:** Batsy may not be as submissive as the prompter wanted, but Joker did his best. Promise.

* * *

The last thing Bruce expected to wake up to on Christmas morning was the sound of "Silver Bells" crooning over the harsh sounds of _someone _screaming only a short distance away.

"_Silver bells…silver bells…it's Christmas tiiiiiiime in the cityyyyyy…_"

The scream made the room shudder.

"…_Here 'em riiiiiing…soon it will beee Christ-mas daaaaay!_"

The singer's mocking, _slightly _off-key pitch sent off warning bells in his sleep-addled brain.

Sudden, abrupt silence didn't help matters.

Bruce quickly tried to survey his surroundings: he was still in his Batsuit, but a burlap straitjacket held his arms securely. (Now he knew where Crane got his mask from). His gauntlets were who knew where, and his legs were strapped to the…_hospital bed_?

He became aware of something tickling his ear, and green curls slid into his line of vision. An abomination in a white nurse's uniform was staring at him. Bright-red scars obscured anything kind about _this _nurse.

"Merry Christmas, Batsy. I, ah, hope you're not _mad_ that I…gave you your present _early. _It's _cooooold _out there!" Joker grinned and shivered for effect.

"Where are we?" Bruce rasped, sliding into his Batman persona without batting an eye. "And why am I like _this?_" He tried to get out of the leg straps, but to no avail.

"Just a pre-_caaaaau_-tion," Joker trilled, _skipping _out of sight. "Can't have the patient hitting the _poor, sweet _ol' nurse, can we?"

"Heaven forbid," Bruce replied dryly as he stared at a string of blood-spattered lights above his head.

A mocking gasp echoed through the room. "_Batsy_—did you just _make a joke?_" Clicking heels on polished hospital linoleum announced Joker's return. His expression was akin to a mother whose child has just learned to walk. "I'm so…_thrilled._"

Bruce grunted and tried to move away from Joker's hand on his shoulder. "Get me out of this thing, Joker. _Now._"

"But I made it _myself!_" Joker's eyes widened. "Don't you like it?"

"What do you _think?_" Bruce continued to fidget, trying to find _some _way to escape…

Joker giggled. "Wanna know what _I _think?" He lifted one lanky, immaculately shaved leg over the bed, his white, high-heeled boot resting none-too-comfortably between Bruce's knees. "_I _think _somebody _took a Hissy Fit Pill this morning."

"_Anyone _would be in a bad mood if they woke up to _this_," Bruce snarled, making sure his gaze stayed on Joker's _face_, not the skirt that seemed to be slowly inching upward…

"_Owwww_," Joker whimpered, holding a long hand to his chest. "You _hurt me_, Batsy! _Right here._"

"You deserve it."

Joker easily climbed up onto the bed, settling himself comfortably on Bruce's stomach. "You're going to have to…_apologize _for that. A good patient doesn't abuse his nurse, re-_mem_-ber?"

"_Get off of me._"

Joker sighed forlornly. "Uh-oh. Looks like we're off to a _baaaaad _start this morning." He climbed off the bed and pressed a button on a small remote, raising Bruce up. "Would some water help?"

"Fine."

"Okay, _sit tight_, then." Joker grinned and, humming "Silver Bells", made his way over to the nearby sink.

Bruce found himself staring at Joker's back as he made a show of getting a glass of water. One long-fingered hand curled around a paper cup, while the other deftly turned the tap with a sharp twist—an action which reminded Bruce of the sickening motion of a neck being snapped.

"Oh, and by the _way_, Batsy—for the record, a good nurse doesn't poison their patients. It's just not _done._"

Bruce's gaze was involuntarily drawn to Joker's legs as Joker casually slid one foot out of its bizarre boot. Long toes rubbed against the hollow of his knee—an itch?

Upon a second look, Bruce noted a small scar there, as though someone had once attempted to make Joker lose his balance, permanently, from behind.

The foot stopped its slow scratching and disappeared back into its boot, while Bruce's gaze traveled up toward where the skirt hid the rest of him from view. Only someone as crazy as Joker would wear something like _that_.

His throat felt drier all of a sudden.

Joker suddenly turned around, and the skirt fluttered briefly, revealing considerably more _masculine _thighs than one would expect from your typical woman. His expression was smug—but then, he had probably _wanted _Bruce to see that little display.

The idea was…_unnerving. _

"Now, I _know _you like what you see," Joker chuckled and folded his arms across his chest, still holding the cup of water "but you're just going to have to be a…_patient _patient."

The way that flash of a pink tongue brushed across his lips made being "patient" that much more troublesome. And Bruce didn't even _like _him.

"Here you go," Joker said, tipping Bruce's head up to be able to drink the water better. "Drink up like a good Bat."

He needed no second prompting. He drank half the glass in one hurried gulp, accidentally spilling some on himself.

"Whoops," Joker made an irritating clucking noise and took what Bruce _hoped _was a clean handkerchief from his pocket, wiping the exposed part of his face. "_There _we go. Now, what d'you say we get down to business, hmm?"

"Business?"

Joker nodded and leaned an elbow on the bed, grinning eagerly. "Yep. As in, _my _Christmas present."

"I already told you—" Bruce started, but Joker cut him off with a condescending wag of his finger.

"Ah-ah-_aaah_. I already gave you _your _present, and this is the, ah, _season of giving._ Cough it up."

"I can't give you much when I'm like this." Bruce's mind grasped for the filament of a plan. "Maybe if you _untied me_…"

Joker grinned. "Nice try, _smarty-Bat._ Noooo, I'm sure you're, ah, _steely mind _can think of _something…_"

Bruce ran through the typical needs of criminal scum (Money, power, sex, etc.), knowing what Joker's reaction would be.

Sure enough, Joker giggled, running a hand absently through his hair. "You're picking the _easy things_, Batsy. And here I thought you were _smart._"

"Tell me what you want, then," Bruce growled, his patience wearing thin.

Joker's expression reminded him of the Grinch when he had had a wonderful, awful idea. He suddenly had a sinking feeling…

"It's nothing _big_," Joker whispered, his fingers resting on Bruce's exposed Adam's apple. "Just...an _interesting _brand of medicine. A _kiss_, basically."

Bruce felt his throat grow dry again. "…A _what_?"

"—Well, y'know, _really _it's not for _me_, but for _you. _See, according to my _di_-ag-_no_-sis, you've got some kind of…of…_sickness. _Like, _really _bad. Bad enough that you were sent _here _to be treated. And here at J's Ward, _every _patient is treated with special care. Especially on Christmas!"

As if _that _made things any better.

"_No._"

Joker frowned. "Why _not?_" He pinched the hem of his skirt, tugging at it coyly. "Am I not _good enough, _is that it? Or is it because I'm a _guy_, hmm?"

"You're the _psychopath who killed Rachel_."

Joker shrugged. "I gave you one less person to jump through a window after." He stepped back and gave a mocking twirl. "I mean, _seriously_, I took all this time to get _dressed up _for you! You could at least, y'know, _go with it._"

"_No._"

Joker's patience suddenly seemed to run out. "Y'know what? _Fine._"

In one smooth movement he was on the bed again, straddling Bruce and leaning over him in a way that was…_unprofessional_. He could hear the soft linen of Joker's skirt brushing against him once again.

"How about _this_, then. Kiss me—just _once_—and I won't take off your mask…" Joker took a disposable camera out of his pocket and dangled it in front of Bruce's face. "…And, ah, _expose _your dirty little _secret identity _to the good people of Gotham. Deal?"

Suddenly the choices were very, very limited. It seemed that the sooner the ordeal was over with, the quicker he'd be free. And brushing lips with a psychopath, however disgusting, was _infinitely _better than public ridicule and humiliation on his father's name.

"Fine." Bruce sighed and looked Joker coldly in the eye. "_One _kiss."

"As the patient likes," Joker sang, eyes glittering with triumph as he stuffed the camera back in his pocket. "Who knows? Maybe this'll cure you of that…_deadly _disease called '_denial_'. And it's _not _a placebo."

"Just get it over with."

Joker licked his lips and leaned down…

And suddenly Bruce knew that this was _not _a kiss, or not _entirely _one, because normally hands didn't _stray _that quick, and Bruce couldn't _move_, and…

It was over. Joker slid easily back off the bed, smoothed out the wrinkles in his dress, and smiled with satisfaction.

"You might feel a little..._tipsy _after the 'meds' sink in," Joker said sweetly, pulling out that damn camera and quickly taking a picture of "Batman" in all his stunned, helpless glory. "But I'm sure that in a few minutes everything'll be…_peachy._"

**THE END.**


End file.
